


7 Months

by thatonemellark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Major Character Death, has a happy ending, i guess, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonemellark/pseuds/thatonemellark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 months after the death of her husband, a pregnant Maggie deals with her emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	7 Months

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling rather sad tonight, so I wrote this out, but I'm a sucker for happy endings, so it's not totally depressing. Please bear with me, as i have a ton of sad feelings tonight. written in the middle of the night, posted without a beta.

After almost 7 months, the grass had grown over his grave, blending in the patch of dirt that held someone so close to her with the rest of the area around it. The wooden cross was the only thing that marked the area, silently reminding her of what she had lost. She sits cross-legged in front of the cross, her huge belly extending so far that it rests on her ankles.

_“Any day now!”_

That’s what Doctor Carson had told her yesterday at her exam. Any day now, she would go into labor and have this baby. His baby. Jesus had offered to make a run to Alexandria to bring the people she once considered family to Hilltop to be with her during her labor.

_“You shouldn’t be alone”_ He had told her. She had shrugged off his offer. She hasn't seen those people since the night he died. Since the night they dropped her and his body off at Hilltop and then took off to Alexandria. Jesus said that they ask about her, but she just can’t bring herself to see them. It’s too painful. On the few times that they had come to Hilltop, she had locked herself in her tent (it was the only room Hilltop had to spare her in terms of shelter at the time) and pretended she didn’t exist. She could hear their voices, hear them ask about her, but she simply buried herself in her sleeping bag and wrapped her arms around her belly as tightly as she could and prayed they’d go away.

7 months of ignoring them and hiding in her sleeping bag have made them stop asking to see her. Now they come, make their trade and leave. She would watch from his gravesite. The sun had been setting, so she could only make out their outlines, but before they boarded the RV to leave, they had all turned and stared at her. She was sure she looked a fright, clutching to his gravestone with her huge belly. She saw Rick lift his arm in a wave to her and for a moment, she was tempted to run to them. To bury herself in Rick’s arms, to hear Michonne’s laugh or Abraham’s obnoxious jokes or even Daryl’s grunts, but then she remembers them on their knees, the way they refused to look at her as she clutched his damaged body to her chest, begging for their help, the pain in her heart overshadowing the pain in her body a million times over. She remembers the way Aaron and Michonne ripped her from his body and forced her into the RV. She remembers Rosita wiping his blood from her face as Abraham and Carl load his mangled body onto the back of the RV. And with that rush of memories, she turned heel and rushed away as fast as a pregnant lady could.

Jesus had told her that they were giving her space. _Time to grieve,_ he had called it. If they’re giving her time, then she won’t see them for decades, as she knows she will never stop grieving his death. It’s still fresh in her mind, 7 months later. She still sees it every time she closes her eyes. She wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming his name as the sound of wood hitting bone and flesh invade the quiet space around her. It’s a nightly occurrence that ends with her rocking in bed, knees to chest and hands clamped firmly over her ears. Some nights she refuses to sleep, just so she doesn't have to return to the clearing that night.

She feels so alone. Jesus is the only one who will speak to her here. Everyone else has isolated her. She could hear the whispers when she had first arrived, all those months ago.

_“She was a part of that group, the one with the crazy guy who killed Ethan.”_

_“Those idiots thought they could take on Negan.”_

_“What goes around comes around, they killed my husband, and now hers is dead too.”_

_“She needs to have her baby and leave. We don’t need another mouth to feed, let alone two.”_

Even eating a meal in the main dining room is a divided situation, with the people of Hilltop refusing to speak to her. She often gets her food and then eats it in her trailer, alone. Doctor Carson was kind enough to give her a room in his medical trailer, so that she has four walls and a roof and a safe place to put the baby, when it comes. When not at his grave, she spends time in the stables. Being with the horses brings back memories of the farm and she smiles as she remembers how awkward and bumbling he had been when they first met.

A kick from her belly brings her out of her thoughts and she rubs her belly and talks to her child. The first time she had felt him kick, she smiled so wide and looked around for someone, anyone to share the news with. No one had cared. She tried to tell a woman who was passing by her, but she had brushed her off and kept walking, telling her to go tell her dead husband and to leave her alone.

The child inside of her kicks constantly, reminding her of his presence. She likes it. He’s already a fighter. She’ll spend hours talking to him, telling him stories of his father and grandfather and aunt. She tells him that she will always be there for him, regardless of how alone she herself is.

She talks to him too. She can’t refer to him by name, as it is still too painful to even think of his name, but she will spend hours sitting at his grave, talking to his headstone and telling him about their child, about how big her belly is getting. She always asks for an extra sonogram picture after her exams and then goes straight to his grave and buries the picture next to his cross. She likes to think that he can see the pictures too.

She has conversations with him in her head, too, about mundane things. She talks to him and then she talks back to herself as him. It makes her laugh, sometimes, because she knew him so well that she knows everything he would say to her. Often times, the conversations involve him telling her to go back to their family, back to Alexandria. He tells her to raise their child back home, where he can grow up feeling loved by their huge, crazy family. She’ll often argue back with him (herself?) about how she can’t stand to be back in Alexandria, how it is like a graveyard to her.

She can’t bring herself to care about how crazy she looks to everyone else, because she enjoys those conversations so much. It’s like having him back, just for a moment.

The dinner bell rings, and she watches as the residents of Hilltop begin to trickle into the house. She’ll wait, like always, for everyone else to get his or her food and sit. On her first at the Hilltop, she had joined everyone when the bell rang. But when she had grabbed a tray and began to get her food, the residents began to berate her, asking why she got to get her food before others, when she didn’t belong here. Some even having the audacity to state that she and Alexandria had taken enough of their food already. She had tried to explain that she was recovering from sickness, on top of eating for two, but the residents just pushed her to the back of the line. When she finally got her food, the Hilltop residents wouldn’t allow her to sit at the big table with them, telling her that there was a spot over there, by the garbage can. She had stormed off, muttering about how they were acting like high schoolers. The whole time, Gregory had sat at the head of the table and smiled at her. She wondered if he had put them up to it.

She had eaten her dinner that night at his freshly dug gravesite (Jesus being the only one who was kind enough to dig the grave, as everyone else just wanted to burn his body), choking down the food while trying to choke back tears. She still remembers how the food had been like cardboard in her mouth, remembers the way it became salty from her tears. That was the last time she went in when the bell rang. Now she waits.

When she deems enough time has past, she hoists herself to her feet. She blows him a kiss goodbye, telling him she will be back later, and waddles into the main house. She can hear the chatter and laughter from the entry hall, and she once again feels terribly alone. As she enters the dining room, the laughter dies down and she can even feel some glares on her back. She’ll never understand why these people hate her so much. Well, she guesses she can understand, but that doesn’t mean she has to put up with it. She grabs her food and drink and starts to head out of the room when an odd feeling hits her. She places her tray down on a mantle feels her belly. Its hard, but she’s not in pain. Her baby gives a swift kick and that's when she feels something trickling down her legs. She lets out a gasp as the inseam of her jeans turn dark with fluid. Everyone in the room is staring at her, but no one moves to help her. For a moment, she images that if he were here, he’d be freaking out, leaping up to try to help her. But here, no one gets up. No one cares.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions and anxieties. She can feel her throat and chest tightening up. The room starts to spin and her heart pounds. She briefly thinks she is having a panic attack before she starts to cry. She regrets her decision to push her family away. She regrets having no one here. She realizes how alone she truly is when no one helps her. She can hear him in her head, telling her to go to the medical trailer, to find Doctor Carson, but she can’t move. She’s frozen from terror. She grasps the mantel tightly and lets out a sob, but still no one comes to her, until finally, an arm is wrapped around her. For a brief moment, she thinks it’s him. That he has come to rescue her and take her away, but she glances over and sees Jesus guiding her out of the house and down to the medical trailer. He whispers to her, telling her it will be all right, while she sobs hysterically the whole time.

He passes her off to Doctor Carson and then murmurs to him about going to Alexandria. She doesn’t try to stop him. Doctor Carson helps her change into a nightgown, covers her bed in towels and blankets and then settles her into her bed. She watches out the window as Jesus saddles a horse and then takes off at a gallop through the gate. She wonders if her family will come to her.

Hours pass and her labor worsens. Doctor Carson checks on her, sees how dilated she is and then assesses the baby’s heart rate before leaving. She is alone. This is the worst physical pain she has every felt. She cries as she suffers through contraction after contraction. She clutches one of his plaid shirts to her chest; a sad replacement for the man that she wishes was here. She thinks about how this is the worst physical pain she has ever felt, and how is still doesn't come close to the pain in her heart.

At around midnight, Doctor Carson tells her to try to get some sleep and that he will check on her in a few hours. She sobs into her pillow after he leaves, the feelings of abandonment and isolation hitting her with full force. She buries her face into the plaid shirt; desperately wishing his smell was still on it. As her body prepares for the birth of his child, she can feel her emotional state dwindling. She wishes she had someone with her-him, Beth, her father. Hell, she’d even love to have Daryl or Abraham with her right now.

By the next afternoon, the baby was close to coming and Jesus was still not back. She stares out the window as Doctor Carson encourages her to push, wishing to see that stupid RV pull in and her family get out. She wants someone with her. She doesn't want to do this alone. When she voices that thought to the doctor, he responds with the fact that soon she won’t be alone; soon she will have his flesh and blood in her arms, if only she pushes a bit harder. She grips his plaid shirt tightly in her fist and pushes with all her might.

Less than 20 minutes later, his son rests on her chest, his bare skin against hers. He squirms in her grasp, letting out little squeaks and cries, before latching onto her breast by himself. He’s already a fighter. She wraps him in his daddy’s shirt and rests her head back on her pillow. His little fist is wrapped tightly around her finger and she thanks the heavens that he is alive and well. She thanks him for giving her a son, one who looks just like his daddy. She smiles as she takes in his mess of black hair, still covered with the products of his birth, but thick and dark with a bit of curl to it. As she stares at his son, she wonders what she should call him. Dare she name him after that man that she lost? She opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to form words, but failing. Tears fill her eyes, but she quickly brushes them away. For the first time since that horrid night, she whispers his name.

“Glenn.”

It sounds foreign on her tongue. She stares at the child in her arms and then says the name a bit louder.

“Glenn.”

The baby doesn't even blink from his position on her chest. He’s too busy eating his first meal. She whispers to him, asking him if he would like to be named after his daddy.

“Are you a Glenn?” She whispers as she strokes his hair. He still ignores her.

“That was your daddy’s name, and he was a good, strong man. It’s an honor to have that name. Glenn.” She smiles, “Or are you a Hershel.” She laughs to herself at her joke, when the baby suddenly pulls away from her breast and lets out one lone cry. He then goes back to eating.

“Is that is then? You want to be a Hershel? I don’t mind if you do, but I just figured you would want to be named after your daddy, not mine. But it’s your choice. If that's what you want your name to be, that’s what it will be, Hershel.”

She spends the next few hours with her son, but for the first time in 7 months, she doesn’t feel alone. She actually smiles and even laughs. And when she hears the putter of that run down RV, she feels her heart soar instead of sink.

She looks out the window and sees them all. Her whole family has come. Even Judith is there. They make their way down to her trailer. She knows they won’t come in unless she gives the okay.

Jesus smiles at the baby, but he smiles even wider when she tells him to send her family in, to send all of them in.

All of them crowd into her tiny room and for the first time in 7 months, she sees them. And she knows that they see her. No words are spoken, but there are tears in all of their eyes. They stare at his son, at Glenn’s son, before coming to rest on her. She tries to speak, but instead she starts sobbing. She cries out to them, telling them how sorry she is for pushing them away. She tells them that she deserves their anger. She doesn't expect to feel a pair of arms around her, but before she knows it, her and her son are in the center of a group hug. She sobs harder. Her whole family begins to cry.

For the first time, they mourn their loss together. They sob for the newborn, which will never know his father and they sob for themselves, for the man that they all loved and lost. Her family pulls away from the hug, but they stare at his son. Michonne keeps her arms wrapped around her shoulders and presses a kiss of her forehead. She glances up at Daryl, who stands next to him. She can see the tear tracks on his face and she knows the guilt he feels. Without a word, she lifts his son up and offers him to Daryl. He looks at her for a moment before taking Glenn’s son in his arms. He cries as he stares into the infant’s face, but he doesn’t try to hide it. She falls into Michonne’s embrace as her son is passed around the room. Each person who holds him falls under his spell. Each person who holds him sheds tears and doesn’t bother to hide them.

At some point, Rick sits next to her. She allows him to pull her into his chest. She forgot how good it felt to be held. She begins to sob as she hears Michonne whisper to the baby about his father. Rick pulls her closer and kisses her head. She apologizes for being so stupid and foolish. She tells them she wishes she could take it all back and pull her family closer instead of pushing them away. She looks around the room, at all the people who already love her son, and she knows what she has to do.

This time, when the RV pulls away from the gates of the Hilltop to head back to Alexandria, she and her son are on it, surrounded by her family. She’s heading home. They’re heading home. She glances out the window. Before the gates of Hilltop close, she catches a glimpse of that lone cross. She feels a twinge of regret, leaving him here. But as the gates close, she turns around in her seat and watches Rosita and Tara make faces at her son while Carol and Michonne begin to talk to her about motherhood, she knows she made the right choice.

Although she doesn’t know it, at that moment she has what turns out to be the final conversation with him in her head, the love from her surrounding family giving her the comfort to voice her thoughts on her husband, instead of bottling them up and allowing them to drive her to the brink of insanity. Sometimes she misses the conversations, but she is glad to be rid of them, knowing it was the insanity boiling over in her that caused her to hear her dead husband’s voice.

_I’m proud of you. You’re going to raise him where he should be, with his family at home. It’s where you both should be_.

_Don’t you dare say it_ , She thinks. She knows what he would say, and she starts to laugh. Her family stares at her, but she just chuckles and shakes her head. She can hear his laughter in her head. She can see his smile and the way his eyes used to light up when he laughed.

_I told you so._


End file.
